


this is me

by braveatheart



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, crackfic??, we'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveatheart/pseuds/braveatheart
Summary: "Hi. My name is Winslow Schott Junior, and word in the town is you're somewhat of a freak."ORSupergirl/The Greatest Showman crossover.





	this is me

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm obsessed with this movie and its phenomenal soundtrack, and when I saw the video of Jeremy subbing for Hugh in the proposal for the movie, I was inspired to write this. I have no idea if I should continue it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

“Hi. My name is Winslow Schott Junior, and word in the town is you’re somewhat of a freak.”

It’s three o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday. Alex is uptown at the police station, her second shift hours having only just started not an hour ago. The house is a mess from the night before, a gathering with their friends that turned into an all-night party full of alcohol and plenty of other unladylike things. She certainly isn’t like other women, so this stranger in a red Nutcracker jacket and a top hat isn’t particularly wrong.

Still, Kara scoffs, feeling slightly offended at the implications of the word ‘freak.’ She steps outside, pulling the door nearly shut behind her to hide the bottles, and stands tall. 

The Nutcracker’s salesman grin begins to slide off his face as he realizes what he’s said, and his confident facade disappears with it. 

“No!” he exclaims urgently. “Not freak. Not bad freak. Not like that.” He babbles on for a few moments more, attempting to make amends for his poor choice in words, then suddenly stops. He sighs and lets his head fall forward in defeat, his calloused fingers reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Kara bites her cheek to stifle her impending grin, not wanting to let this Mr. Schott get off with calling her a freak. Still, she lets her posture relax a bit, and softens her hard glare.

Mr. Schott glances up again, and Kara can see relief wash over his expression as he realizes she’s no longer angry. A small smile plays at his lips again, his eyes filling with a new gentleness as he offers his hand.

Kara shakes it, gripping firmly but cautiously so. His hands are as rough as they look. They’re a working man’s hands, calloused in all the places that a pen would rest as he crunches numbers. The handshake ends, and their hands fall to their sides once more.

“I’ve heard of you, Miss Danvers,” Mr. Schott begins, his salesman pitch all but gone. “I’ve heard talk of the girl who lifted a carriage off of a trapped man like it was a feather, of the girl who shoots fire from her eyes when she’s angry. I’ve heard of the girl who flies when she thinks no one can see her. You’re very graceful, by the way. It’s an extraordinary view from the roof of my apartment.”

Kara swallows hard. She feels her heart skip a beat when she realizes that she’s not as hidden as she’d thought. She wants to disappear, to run away from this knowing man, but she doesn’t. She wills herself to hold his interested gaze and says nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m putting together a show,” he says, catching Kara off guard. “A show of the most extraordinary people in this town. You see, I’m the owner of a museum full of magnificent artifacts, but a critic whose advice I consider carefully suggested that I bring some life to the place. So here I am. Searching for life. Life like yours, to be exact.”

He’s rambling again, but Kara can’t deny that he’s skilled at marketing his ideas. She feels herself being pulled into his words against her will. She blinks a few times and looks away.

“I want to show the world something more extraordinary than they’ve ever seen,” Mr. Schott continues. “Something full of life.”

“That Luthor woman writes plays,” Kara offers as she meets his eyes again, trying to deflect his offer. “Seems like she’s got the entertainment thing taken care of.”

Mr. Schott gives a small smile of acknowledgement, then quirks his eyebrow in thought. Whatever the thought, he seems to push it away a moment later when his expression relaxes. He reaches into his jacket, brow furrowed as he searches, then pulls a piece of yellow and battered paper from a pocket. He pushes it toward Kara and raises an eyebrow, a silent request to take it. Kara obliges before she can stop herself, and takes the paper from his hands. “W. S. Junior’s Museum” is written in bold letters at the top, followed by an address and a graphic advertising this so-called show.

“They already think I’m a freak,” Kara whispers, so softly that she isn’t sure Mr. Schott will even hear her. She’s proven wrong when a hesitant hand reaches forward and wraps gently around her wrist. Blue eyes flit upward, and the eyes that look back are genuine and kind in a way that the blonde doesn’t usually encounter. A smile tugs at Mr. Schott’s lips, and he gives a small chuckle.

“Let them,” he says, his voice void of any sort of sales-like quality. “But let them see how beautiful that can be.”

Kara gasps, then quickly blinks against the sudden sting behind her eyes. She swallows the lump that’s risen in her throat.

“Think about it, Miss Danvers. You’ve got these… powers. Superhuman powers. Let the world know…”

He trails off, his eyes flitting upward in thought. Kara stands silently, hanging onto his words as she wills the moisture in her eyes to disappear.

“Let the world know Supergirl. That’s what we’ll call you… Supergirl,” he says, smiling at his own creativity. “Show them what a hero you are.”

The two stare at each other for a moment, emotion rendering Kara speechless while Mr. Schott gives her the warmest look she’s ever seen from anyone other than her sister and her friends.

“Thank you, Mr. Schott,” Kara finally manages, her voice strained. She clears her throat, but knows it’s to no avail. Mr. Schott doesn’t appear to notice, or at least he pretends not to. 

“Call me Winn, by the way,” he says.

“Alright, Winn. It’s Kara, then.”

Winn smiles, that same gentle gaze accompanying his toothy grin. “Very well, Kara.”

He tips his hat, then spins on his heels and walks toward the street before Kara can get another word out. The blonde stands there frozen, the paper still clutched in her fingertips as she watches Winn walk down the street, ignoring the confused stares he gets at the sight of his Nutcracker-esque jacket. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of Kara’s lips. The word  _ Supergirl  _ repeats in her head, and she feels a certain excitement in her chest at the thought. Clutching Winn’s paper tightly, she steps back into the messy house, too thoughtful to think about the bottles she should be cleaning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts???


End file.
